I Can’t Be A Bride! By Throne (21 Pages) (Patreon)

I Can’t Be A Bride!

By Throne

© 2019-2020 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to ​[email protected] 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

***DEVIN DICKIE NOTE***

All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real.  The acts in the following written work are only consensual  sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.

Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities. 

I CAN'T BE A BRIDE

by Throne

The closer I got to my wedding date, the more nervous I became.  It seemed almost impossible that I was marrying Talia, a gorgeous blond with the figure of a swimsuit model and the face of an angel.  I got so stressed on the day we went to city hall for our license that she gave me a pill to calm me down.  It certainly helped my jitters and the whole afternoon passed in a pleasant blur.  Her gay brother Mark drove us and was there for every step of the way, signing as the witness.  But now it was time for the marriage ceremony.  It was to be held at the home of one of my wife's friends, a Mister Darren Ashford.  I didn't meet him until we arrived there.  He was middle aged, distinguished, and well dressed.  Mark, Talia's good looking sibling, showed obvious affection for him and I realized they must be in some sort of relationship.  I'm pretty liberal about those situations for other people, even though the thought of being with another man was personally repugnant to me. 

When it was time for us to get dressed for the ceremony, Talia insisted that I take another of those sedatives.  I didn't want to be less than fully aware for my own wedding, but she could be very persuasive and got me to swallow it, also washing it down with a glass of wine.  Fifteen minutes later I was in an induced trance when she showed me my outfit.  I was shocked but it was as if I was viewing everything from a distance, unable to object even though I was horrified by what I was seeing.  Instead of a tuxedo there was woman's clothing.  It was a top that resembled a wedding gown bodice, and pants of the same material.  As she began undressing me, which I docilly accepted, a young man entered the room.

He said, "Hi, I'm Barry.  Mark thought you could use some help dressing our special somebody."

She chuckled and told him, "I might, just because Jim here is too relaxed to do much himself."

"No problem."  He came very close to me and lightly rubbed the back of my neck, making me shudder.  "He's not a bad looking guy.  Short and slender."  He gave my bottom a squeeze.  "Soft to the touch."  He took over the job of getting me out of my clothes, touching me much more than necessary.   Barry told Talia, "I'm going to get rid of this little bit of body hair he has."

My lover told him, "That'll be perfect.  I would have done it myself but we wanted to keep a lot of things secret from him.  Probably I could have just made some excuse.  I mean, he did accept my proposal that we save sex until after we were legally joined."

Barry snickered.  "Well, he'll get plenty of sex, staring tonight."

He took something that resembled an electric razor but which he pointed out to Talia was a laser tool for hair removal.  Soon he had my body smooth all over.  He trailed his fingertips here and there to test his work, which was unnecessary but which he obviously enjoyed. 

Talia produced a corset, a white satin one, which she fitted around my waist.  Barry fastened it in the back and began tightening the laces.  He kept at it until I felt as if I was being cut in half.  It pushed the pliant flesh of my chest up, forming what could be mistaken for tiny breasts.  Then came the pants, which hugged my legs like stretch slacks.  The top went on, also being fastened up the back.  The sleeves were so tight that I could raise and lower my arms but not bent them.   Woman's shoes with two inch heels were fitted onto my feet and their ankle straps buckled.  They walked me, with the footwear forcing me to take small mincing steps, to a full-length mirror.  I resembled some sort of modern bride, in a relaxed yet elegant ensemble.   How could I be marrying Talia looking like that?  She was the bride, not me.

Barry announced, "I have to do your Jim's face.  Why don't you go an get yourself ready for the big event?"

My fiancé said, "Sounds great.  I want to look my best."

Was she going to wear a full wedding gown?  Or what?  I was still trying to get my thoughts straight through the haze of whatever had been in that pill, when Barry walked me to a vanity table, sat me down in a scroll-back chair, and put an oversized, disposable bib on me.   He went to work on my face immediately with tiny brushes and small applicators and two different tubes of lipstick.  In the mirror facing me I had to witness my old likeness being replaced by a much more feminine one.  He even fussed with my hair and applied some product, leaving it fuller and falling across my forehead. Barry also coached me on speaking in a higher and softer voice.  I felt so under the control of others by then that I didn't fight back, instead wanting to keep everyone happy so that they would be on my side -- I hoped.   A tiny headpiece was attached to my hair, with lace trailing down behind but no veil.

At last I was done.  My mind was a bit clearer but my willpower hadn't returned.  I was easily led out of that room and into the back of a much larger one where folding chairs were set up in rows to either side of a central aisle.  At the far end of that aisle was a dais on which was placed a lectern.  Behind the latter stood a tall woman in a tuxedo made of leather.  She had short hair and no visible make-up.  I looked  more like a female than her.  Barry put his arm through mine and walked me up the aisle.  From the side of the room Talia stepped up onto the low platform.  She had on a slinky black dress, rather than the wedding gown I had hoped to find her in.  From the other side her brother Mark appeared, in a tailored suit.  By him was a tall rugged guy in slacks and a jacket.  It was all so confusing.  As Barry led me the rest of the way someone put on a recording of the wedding march.  I stepped up and took my place by Talia.  She smiled at me and moved away.  The guy with Mark joined her.  She called him Lance and they shared a tender kiss in front of everyone.  The pair went to sit in the front row, next to Mr. Ashford.  Mark put himself alongside me and hooked his arm through mine.  What was my fiancé's gay brother doing with me as I was about to be wed?

Everything fell into place at once.  Talia had led me into a trap.  When I had signed the paperwork at city hall I was agreeing to marry Mark.  And I'd been in the same state when they'd had me put my signature on several other documents that I now realized must have been a prenuptial agreement and perhaps something even worse for me.  The mannish woman who was presiding began to speak.

"We are gathered here in Darren Ashford's stunning home to witness the joining of Barry and Jim in wedlock as Dom and sub.  Henceforth, Jim will be known as Gem, in accordance with the legal papers he signed to have his name changed."  She turned to Barry and asked, "Do you take Gem, to dominate, use and abuse, and control fully?"

He said, "I certainly do."

She asked me, "And you, Gem, agree to be his submissive slave and plaything, to obey him endlessly, and to suffer whatever indignities and discomforts he may choose to inflict upon you.  Say 'yes'."

Numb but horribly aware of what I was assenting to, I said in my piping, well modulated voice, "Yes.  I do."

"Then I now pronounce you Master and sissy.  You may kiss your property, Sir."

Mark took me in his arms and planted his lips firmly against mine, kissing me hard and driving his tongue deep into my mouth.  When he broke away his hands went to my shoulders to push me downward.  My knees buckled and I found myself looking up at him.  He put both hands on the back of my head and pulled my face against his crotch.

With a hint of threat in his tone he ordered me, "Give my cock a smooch."

In a quandary, with every eye on me, I puckered up and pressed my mouth against his organ through his slacks.  I could feel how thick and warm it was.  He chuckled and the audience clapped politely.  There were murmured comments that I couldn't hear clearly, though a few words stood out.  I discerned 'sissy' and 'easy' and 'wedding night'.  Barry joined us and the two men helped me to my feet.  Barry licked my ear.  I was assisted back down the aisle and then my top and pants were quickly removed, leaving me in only corset and heels, my hairless pink skin exposed, the foundation garment still giving me faux breasts.  There wasn't anything covering my genitals.  I was overcome with a need for modesty.  People started filing down the aisle toward us, beginning with those seated in the front. 

Darren Ashford stopped in front of us.  In desperation I begged, "Please, Sir, may I at least have something to cover my privates?"

"Well," he said amiably, "this was going to be a surprise for later, but I suppose you can have it now."

From his pocket he took a small device and handed it to Barry.  I swiveled my upper body to get a better look and the loose flesh of my chest gave a jiggle.  From browsing sex sites on-line, I recognized it as a male chastity device.  Barry knelt down and fitted the holding ring around the base of my male parts.  Then came the cover, which was so tiny that it compressed my naturally small penis until it was a mere nubbin.  I heard a faint click as he fastened the sections together with a small padlock.  The reality of not only being in that bizarre situation but also having my dick locked up had me close to crying.  I sniffled and my lips quivered.

"It's okay, Gem," Mark reassured me.  "You'll be better able to concentrate on my needs while you're in chastity.  That'll be a big plus on our honeymoon, while you're learning what I like."

"Right," Barry agreed.  "And my preferences, too."

Darren added, "Along with the sorts of scenes I enjoy staging."

My head spun.  Behind Darren were Talia and Lance, hand in hand.  Instead of spending the evening and my future with her I would be joined to her gay brother Mark.  Darren gave me a kiss on the cheek, at the same time fingering one of my nipples.  I trembled from the sexual stimulation as my penis tried and failed to grow hard in its tiny enclosure.  

Talia stepped in front of me to deliver an air kiss about six inches from my mouth.  She said, "Congratulations.  If you start thinking of not giving my darling brother whatever he wants, keep in mind that you've already signed over everything you own and every dollar you had to him.   Be a good wifey or you'll find yourself out on the street and destitute.  The way your pre-nuptial is written, you'd also owe him a small fortune."  She lowered her voice to confide, "You'd have to start selling your ass on the sidewalk to avoid going to jail.  Think of me while you're consummating your marriage and I'll devote a few minutes to imagining what a sexy sissy you're being when I'm in bed with Lance, giving him everything you never got from me."

What she had said was dreadful and, I realized with a sickened lurch of my insides, true.  As the other guests moved past me they admired my hairless state, faux boobs, and cock lock, cheerfully examining everything with their hands.  By the time we got to the final few attendees, I was a nervous mess, and quite stimulated against my will.  I kept telling myself that it was a purely physical reaction, and that half the people touching me had been female.  Yet it was disturbing that I had gotten so aroused despite my awful predicament.  Mark hugged me and gave me a long wet kiss with plenty of tongue.  I meekly accepting it, for some reason melting in his embrace.  He openly fondled my bare bottom. 

We proceeded to a space large enough to be a banquet hall, where the guests sat at long tables on either side.  I was walked to the middle of the room, still having to take short steps due to my shoes.  Waiting for us was a plain wooden chair on which Mark sat himself.  He tugged my arm and dragged me across his lap with my bare bum sticking up for all to see. 

Darren, seated at the center of a large table across from us, used his spoon to tap a glass and gain everyone's attention.  He announced, "As this is a Dom/sub marriage, there will be a spanking of the bride to symbolically establish both parties' roles.  And I want to formally welcome Gem to my home, where Mark already lives.   I'm sure the sissy will quickly learn to submit to myself and my assistant Barry, as readily and fully as he will to Mark.   And now," he concluded, raising his glass, "let the spanking begin."

With no other warning, Mark raised his hand and brought it down hard.  There was a loud fleshy smacking sound and I yelped in spite of myself.  My feet kicked and I grabbed hold of the chair's legs as the blows continued to land on my unprotected buttocks.  I wailed and couldn't keep myself from crying hot tears as he made my sitter hurt more and more.  At last it ended and he helped me to my feet.  Cuffing my hands behind my back, he clipped a leash to my chastity and walked me slowly along the fronts of all the tables, stopping frequently to chat, make me show off my blazing buns, toy with my nipples until I squirmed uncontrollably, and kiss me fiercely.  By the time we had returned to our starting spot I was utterly defeated, my will broken.   I hated  every second of what was happening but was helpless against the onslaught of indignities. 

As the reception went on I saw Talia and Lance eyeing each other intimately.  When guests began to depart, that pair went off to a room Darren had offered them.  Soon after that Mark declared that it was time for he and I to head to his suite.  I quivered at the thought of what came next.  He noticed my reaction and said I was a typical nervous bride on her wedding night.  My concerns grew as Barry accompanied us.  We got to the spacious bedroom and I was surprised when Mark moved off to one side and sat down in an armchair.  I modestly put my hands over my chest, like a girl covering her bosom.

I timidly said to Mark, "You aren't going to... to...?"

He chortled.  "Going to ravage you?  Not at the moment.  Barry is going to warm you up for me.  He's quite good at it and enjoys showing off his skills.  Besides which, I'll get heated up myself watching him get busy with you." 

"But I'm not gay," I said, too scared to use my normal male voice.

"That's part of the fun.  Making you respond to another man, and then having you act like a sissy bride, when those are the last things you want, will be a huge turn-on for us.  I hope you NEVER learn to like your new lifestyle, Gem."

I stood there trembling.  Barry steered me to the oversized bed and got me to the center of the mattress on my back.  He knelt alongside me, looking like he was about to enjoy a gourmet meal.  Then he went to work with his hands and mouth.  His skill was unbelievable.  Even though my every male instinct rebelled against reacting, I couldn't keep from becoming wildly aroused.  My penis was crushed inside it's tiny cage.  When I twisted around, the corset punished my middle.  I was gasping with both agony and ecstasy.  He handled my balls, licked and sucked my nipples, nibbled my ears, and made obscene suggestions.  His fingers explored every inch of me except for my cock, which was safe from his direct touch.  But then he set up a rhythmic tapping on the chastity that elevated my sex drive to new heights.  I kept telling myself that I wasn't gay but he made my body contradict those denials.  I writhed under his expert ministrations until I thought I would swoon from overexcitement.

Suddenly Mark loomed into my field of vision, smiling down at me.  "Now let's see if you can be even a fraction as good as Barry just was, when it comes to stimulating me.  At least you'll have the advantage of being able to touch my prick." 

He began undressing.  Barry continued to stoke me all over but more slowly.  I moaned as Mark got down to just his snug shorts.  The bulge of his genitals was clear and told me he was of larger than average dimensions. 

Barry hissed into my ear, "You had better tell him you want to do it.  Otherwise, you could be in for some nasty punishments.  We all know you're going to do it sooner or later.   Why not save yourself a lot of suffering and just give him what he wants, and do it with a smile?  Make your enthusiasm believable and he'll go easier on you."

Mark was completely naked.  His body was well toned and his cock was as large as I had guessed, growing larger by the second as he stood by the bed within easy reach.  While Barry still worked on me, only gradually withdrawing, I reached tentatively for Mark's swollen member.  My fingers curled around his considerable girth and I pumped it in slow motion.  It was so strange to have a man's stiff tool in my hand.  At that moment, however, my groom's approval was uppermost in my mind.  The fevered state into which Barry had put me, along with the inescapability of my situation, and the fact that I was now penniless, drove me to continue what I was doing.  Worse, those combined factors made me do even more.

Once Barry withdrew and took Mark's former place on the chair, I sat up  on the side of the bed to put him hands on the bare hips of my husband.  I couldn't believe I was referring to him by that term, even if only in my mind.  His massive organ was pointing at my face.  I licked the tip teasingly, like some wanton female intent on seducing a man, or more appropriately, a bride eager to convince her new spouse she was ready to please him in the sluttiest ways possible.  I pulled him closer and swung my torso side-to-side, so that my soft mock-breasts brushed the head of his cock.  He growled approvingly and placed his hands lightly on the sides of my fluffed hair.  I reached up to lightly toy with his nipples.  I knew that rushing his pleasure would earn me discipline.  Lapping the underside of his length I had to decide what to do next.  Then it came to me.  I dipped my head down and gently tongued his scrotum.

He said, "Barry, my bride is a fast learner.  And trampy.  You didn't lick his balls but that's what he's doing to mine."

"Bravo," Barry congratulated.  "Now let's see if he sucks on them."

I was already sickened by what I was doing, disgusted with myself for how fully I had surrendered.  Yet I saw no other choices.  Opening my mouth as wide as I could, I got my lips around his ball sac and drew it completely in.  Then I rolled his nuggets around in my mouth, impressed by how they stretched my cheeks.  He was grinning down at me and I had a queasy sense of how I must appear.  As if that mental image wasn't bad enough, Barry appeared by Mark's side, aiming a digital camera down at me.

He said, "Smile for the internet, Gem.  Your on-line wedding album -- or honeymoon album, I should say -- will be seen by Darren's circle of special friends.  But don't worry, there are only a few dozen of them."

Defeated, my masculinity in retreat, I cautiously withdrew his heavy balls from my mouth and fastened it over the thick knob of his cock.  I sucked and Barry captured more images.  My hands went around behind my spouse to grip and knead his firm buttocks.  They were so much better developed than my own.  I began to move my head forward and back, giving him spirited oral sex like I had always hoped to get from  Talia, like she might be giving to Lance at that very moment.  I gagged slightly as I took in more inches.  Mark stroked my cheeks and arched his back.  He groaned loudly.  Oh no.  He was going to ejaculate onto my tongue, against the roof of my mouth, and down my throat.  It nauseated me but I had to see this through to its stomach-turning conclusion.  I squeezed his buns more firmly and swirled my tongue around his cockhead.  It must have been the correct combination because he grunted once, twice, three times and spurted into me.  My face was still moving forward and back, so that I received his discharge everywhere that I had imagined it going.  Some leaked from the corner of my lips.  I had sunk to what I believed to be the ultimate depths of sissy mortification. 

Yet that was only the first step in a long slow descent.  Mark loved having an eager and obedient bride who would suck him off on demand and smile through a mouthful of spunk afterward.  That was who I became.  Dressed like a retro housewife, I did light housework and prepared simple snacks, poured drinks and massaged feet, but was always ready to give him the next blowjob.  Unfortunately for me, I was expected to do the same for Barry.  I learned to apply my own make-up and become proficient at reapplying my lipstick after it had been ruined from having a cock in my mouth and being fed a load of cream. 

I had anticipated being used the same way by the older Darren but that was not his preference.  His specialty was to stage scenes that satisfied strange appetites.  For instance, he turned me into a 'jockey boy'.  That was done by dressing my hairless body in only panties and stockings, and putting a pair of jockey shorts over my head.  They were intentionally very small and fitted tightly over my features, with the fly against my mouth.  I had to grope my way around sightlessly, following the voice of whoever I was about to serve.  With Darren observing -- avidly, I was sure -- I had to kneel in front of the man, part the fly with my fingers enough to expose my lips, and blindly seek the cock waiting for me.  The recipient might be Mark or Barry, but sometimes an unfamiliar voice called me near and I had to swallow an anonymous organ and drain unfamiliar testicles. 

Other scenes involved Darren's friends who had seen me on his private website.  One of them was a man named Horace, who appeared to be a few years older than Darren but was not nearly as good looking or stylishly attired.  I was becoming more aware of male appearances.  In the high-ceilinged library, Darren sat on a wingchair across from his friend on a sofa.  I was dressed in a transparent baby doll nightie, champagne pink, that showed off my unmanly physique.  I was also becoming cognizant of my own looks and how they affected others.  Instructions had been given to me ahead of time for how to play my part in the disturbing action that followed.  Barry had also generously lubed my asshole with scented cream made for that purpose. 

I had to enter the room while the two men chatted idly about books and music and film.  When there was a pause in their conversation I was expected to curtsey and then ask in my sweetest girly way if I might sit next to Darren's friend.  After being granted permission, I would walk across the room, swiveling my hips.  Then I would turn my back to the sofa and lower my bottom toward the spot next to Horace.  He was ready with his hand there, palm up, middle finger extended.  As if nothing unusual was taking place, I would sit myself on the rigid digit, making sure it went up my rear.  It was uncomfortable and shameful to stay there while the men talked and ignored my plight.  It delighted Horace, who eventually worked a second and then third finger up into my tightness.  As much as I wanted to squirm, and even more so to stand and flee, I was required to sit there with a vapid smile on my face, occasionally smoothing down my filmy lingerie, and endure being unnaturally penetrated while they sipped quality port and discussed refined topics.  After more than an hour of that, sometimes two, I was at last excused and had to delicately rise, still pretending nothing untoward had gone on, and blithely sashay away to Mark's bedroom, where he made me describe my ordeal while using my mouth on his nipples, balls and cock. 

Through my weeks of such scenes there were also 'tune-ups' from Barry.  Those heated teasing sessions left me urgently needing sexual release, but Mark insisted on keeping me horny in chastity because he said it made me perform better, for him and Barry, as well as in those staged scenes.  It troubled me that I was thinking of myself more and more in terms of how well I pleased others sexually.  It was coming to define me, to maintain my sense of self worth, even though I hated what I was doing.  More of Darren's friends appeared.

There was Eustace, a fat unattractive man who wanted me to follow him around and try to seduce him.  I had to beg him to take me to his home and be my sugar daddy.  Part of my role was to endlessly describe the acts I would perform for him, what I would wear, and how I couldn't control myself around him.  He loved to see me in belly shirts and mini-shorts, with colorful knee socks and trashy hooker shoes.  Of course, I used heavy cosmetics whenever he was around.  After a full day of me coming on to him, he would relent and allow me to give him an extended BJ, thanking him effusively for the privilege afterwards.

And then there was Carlton.  He would arrive with another man, a big beefy specimen named Hank, who was covered with excessive dark hair.  Carlton's thrill was to see me lick Hank all over, as if I was grooming him with my tongue.  He took special pleasure in seeing me do that to Hank's underarms and pubes.  And the big hirsute man, either intentionally or by carelessness, neglected his personal hygiene.  He tasted of sweat and other bodily secretions.  Those sessions ended with my sucking Hank's short but girthy member, while Carlton happily masturbated and spent his hot load all over my uncovered back. 

So that's what I'm dealing with.  I haven't worn male clothing for months.  I'm more naked than dressed much of the time.  The hair removal treatments they've used all over my body have had the result of permanently eliminating every follicle.  The daily application of expensive emollients has left my skin smooth and creamy.  I walk and talk like a total sissy and am pretty sure I wouldn't be able to stop even if I was allowed to.  My balls ache constantly from not being allowed to ejaculate.  The weirdest scenes I act out raise my sexual temperature, at the same time they sicken me.  And I am addressed only as Gem. 

There is one chance for me to get some physical relief.  Darren has offered to allow me one orgasm a month.  It would be part of a scene one or anther of his friends wants to see me in, and I would have no say in what might be involved.  To earn that compromised right, I have to agree to start letting men enter me from behind, beginning with Mark.  That has never happened but I've had a secret terror that it might.  Now I can accept the new indignity, with its accompanying discomfort and disgrace, in exchange for limited opportunities to have my testicles emptied, always under distasteful circumstances.  It's a far from fair bargain and yet I'm half crazy from enforced celibacy.  They could simply require me to receive back door sex but instead have given me this choice.  I suppose they enjoy my mental torment.

There's no rush to decide.  I can remain orgasm-free indefinitely if I prefer.  Or I can have a monthly ejaculation, even if it's not in a way I'll like, and will also cost me my anal virginity. 

What should I do?

What would YOU do?

*********

(This one is for C.C., whose stories I enjoy so much.) 

(Thanks to everyone who reviewed my previous effort.  I was flattered by your kind words and delighted by how many of you posted.)